


The Replacement

by KittyKaulitz



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abuse, Amputation, Bad end Clear, Blood, Bruises, Choking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Physical Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKaulitz/pseuds/KittyKaulitz
Summary: Clear's perfect little doll, Aoba, has sadly broken. However, he's just been given a replacement.  Crossover fic, takes place after Clear's bad end.





	

Clear carefully looked over the pale, ghostly figure that had just been delivered into his white, clean playroom.  
He’d been lonely and very, very bored since they took his beautiful Aoba away from him; he’d broken him, they said. He’s not alive anymore, they said. That didn’t stop Clear from seeing him as beautiful, though. Aoba would always be beautiful, even when he had begun to fall apart and disintegrate in his hands. Nonetheless, they took his wonderful toy away from him, so to be given a new one was very exciting for Clear.  
Toue had promised this one would last longer, too – “We’ve cured him for you”, he said. “We’ve fixed him for you.”

At first, he was disappointed. His new toy’s hair was white, just like his; it didn’t have the vibrancy or shine of Aoba’s hair. However, the fact that his skin was just as pale as his hair excited Clear. He thought about all the pretty marks he could leave there, and how his blood would look even redder when it spilled out.  
The very thought of it made excitement stir in Clear’s chest.

 

Once the guards had left the two of them alone in the sterile room, Clear immediately started to test how dangerous this new toy would be. He’d been secured with straps around his hands and ankles, gagged with a simple white band and blindfolded; however, he’d shown no signs of struggle even as the guards had wheeled him in on the metal table, barely even breathing. Clear rested his hand on the man’s chest, waiting for him to twitch or even breathe quicker – but nothing.  
This behaviour confused Clear. Why wouldn’t the man move? It was no fun if he was silent. Checking the name tag, he called out the new toy’s name, waiting for a response.

“Komaeda.”

Nothing. Maybe it was because he hadn’t used the whole name, Clear wondered. Removing his hand from Komaeda’s chest, he leant a little closer to his ear and tried again.  
“Nagito Komaeda.”  
Still nothing. However, this only sparked a new curiosity in Clear’s mind; what would he have to do to get a response?  
Reaching down the table a little, Clear unfastened the restraints around Komaeda’s wrists, waiting for him to try and grab at or hurt him. However, there was still no movement whatsoever. He repeated the process with the fasteners around the ankles, but Komaeda just lay still.  
If it weren’t for the slight motion in the chest, anyone would think he’s dead.

 

Walking slowly over to his head again, Clear reached out and touched the hollows of Komaeda’s cheeks. He’d definitely thinned a little since he came here, but that was to be expected – the same had happened to Aoba, in fact.  
He found himself unfastening the gag, and placing it neatly on the side tray. Finally, there was a sign of life; Komaeda licked his lips a little, and then went back to being completely poker faced. Clear’s heart pounded watching the slight movement, his intrigue doubling now that he knew Komaeda still had thoughts.  
Clear ran his finger down Komaeda’s bottom lip, but was disappointed when his actions weren’t acknowledged. Frustrated, he decided he’d have to take more extreme measures in order to force a reaction.

 

Walking down the table again, he undid the hospital gown covering Komaeda; a motion he’d practiced many times before with Aoba. Laying the gown over the end of the table, Clear traced a finger up Komaeda’s leg as he walked up towards the middle of the body. His body was even thinner than Aoba’s in his final days – it looked like thin latex stretched over bones.  
He pressed a gloved finger into Komaeda’s ribs, then another, jerking them upwards a little and watching spots of red gradually cover the area. Clear knew they’d blossom into pretty purple bruises soon, and he smiled at the thought of that blank canvas of a body being covered in beautiful patterns and colours.  
Deciding he’d add to it, he picked up a carefully polished scalpel, and gently cut into the skin around the frail man’s ribs. A small amount of blood collected in droplets around the cuts, sharply contrasting the pale glow of his skin.  
It was so beautiful, Clear couldn’t help but smile. However, his toy’s face was still completely devoid of emotion. Clear frowned.

 

This would not do.

 

Clearly, he’d have to try harder to get the reaction he craved.  
Setting the now-dirtied scalpel down on the table and picking up a small, sharp knife, Clear pressed the knife into Komaeda’s little finger on his right hand, ignoring the crunch as it sliced through the bone.  
“This is really unlucky, isn’t it?”  
Clear’s head snapped up at the sound of the new voice in the room. Komaeda’s lips were curled into a thin smile, and he somehow looked a little paler. Clear laughed a little in response, applying pressure to the place on Komaeda’s hand where his little finger used to be, and beginning to prep the bandages.  
“You should feel lucky, Komaeda. You’re getting more beautiful as I go along.” Clear purred, carefully wrapping up the wound. He’d been told off sternly when Aoba’s leg had gotten infected after amputation, so he was being extra careful with his toys now. “You’ve got such pretty patterns on your ribs already.”  
“Can I see?” Komaeda asked quietly. Clear was surprised at this request; all Aoba had ever done was cry or yell before he’d removed his vocal cords. However, it seemed was no to need to do that with this new toy – he was so frail and doll-like already. He was already beautiful.

 

Without another word, Clear stood up and carefully removed the blindfold, staring into Komaeda’s eyes. Unlike Aoba’s bright, pretty, reflective eyes, Komaeda’s were dull and dark. They seemed devoid of life already; like a million raven feathers all piled up. Clear felt no urge to remove these ones – they seemed doll-like already. He was almost disappointed.  
Sliding his hand behind the ghostly man’s head, he lifted it up to show him his ribs. The bruises had bloomed where he’d pressed hard into and under the fragile ribs, and the blood had since smudged and dried, looking akin to fallen petals. Komaeda grinned bitterly, his chest feeling tight, but he didn’t say anything. Clear sighed and set his head back down.

“I was so happy when you spoke, Komaeda.” Clear whispered, for reasons that were unclear to even himself. He traced his thumb against Komaeda’s lip again, except this time he opened his mouth too; the frail man’s tongue lapped against Clear’s gloved finger, and he held eye contact with the twisted man who’d already hurt him.  
Clear was confused by the fact that Komaeda showed affection even in this situation, but didn’t reject him. The tongue retreated inside Komaeda’s mouth as quickly as it came out, and he laughed a little bit – a hoarse, quiet, almost bitter laugh.

 

“I’m nothing but trash. You might as well use me, if that’s what you want.” He replied quietly, averting his eyes. Clear curled his finger under his toy’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact again, and smiled.  
“I don’t think you’re trash. You’ve been very entertaining so far. If you like, I can make you even more beautiful.” He hummed, moving his hand to play with the white, frail hair. A slight blush crawled over his face, and he moved his head slightly to press against Clear’s hand,  
“Nobody says that without a motive. You might as well hurt me again; the despair only leads to a greater hope, doesn’t it?” Komaeda seemed like he was almost panting, even though Clear didn’t really understand what he was talking about. His eyes were heavy lidded, and he arched his back a little, a wobbly smile gracing his face.  
Ah, the thought of even more beautiful marks gracing his blank canvas… Clear moved his fingers back to his doll’s lips, but this time slipped them into his mouth and to the back of his throat, causing him to choke and gag.  
His long-lashed eyes began to prickle with tears, and his hands curled into fists, but he made no effort to stop Clear. If his body was any indication, he was actively enjoying this abuse; his cheeks were a bright red, and he had somehow become hard during the process. Clear pulled his fingers out to let him breathe, and unbuckled his belt, letting his trousers fall to the floor. Retrieving his own erection, he watched as equal amounts fear and pleasure pooled into Komaeda’s eyes, and he gulped hard.

 

This new toy was almost as good as Aoba.

 

Clear roughly held Komaeda’s head and tilted it, stepping closer to the table. Slipping his dick into the fragile toy’s mouth, he began to pull his head backwards and forwards along his length, relishing the gags and chokes that erupted from him.  
He had no intention of making this fun for Komaeda; he just wanted to assert himself over him, overpower him, own him. Much to his delight, Komaeda made no attempt to stop Clear. It seems he’d won that battle right from the start.  
Grabbing the hair tight in his fist, he used his free hand to press down on Komaeda’s skinny throat, causing a panicked choke to slip from him.  
It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

And with that thought, he pulled out of his warm mouth, and orgasmed over Komaeda’s face. Some of it caught in his hair and on his eyelashes, most of it landing on his red-blotched cheeks; Clear stood back and admired his handiwork.  
He made no effort to wipe the cum off his face, and just lay there panting – ah, it was clear now that he’d have to wash Komaeda himself. Could those thin, frail legs even support his own weight anymore?  
Clear leant down and kissed Komaeda, crushing their lips together so hard it bruised, untangling his hand from the matted hair.  
“Shall we make you more beautiful?” Clear bent down to Komaeda’s level, looking him in the eye, a small smile spreading across his face, dizzy with excitement over the thought of watching his pet’s pretty red blood spill out like smoke into the bathtub. His suggestion was met with another grin.  
“We might as well. I deserve it, after all.” He whispered back.

 

Clear was so grateful for this present.


End file.
